


long road back home (but i'll be okay as long as i've got you)

by gustin_puckerman



Series: We're all out here searching for something [2]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, happy news for stupid ppl in love by the end, so yay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 16:34:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4399325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gustin_puckerman/pseuds/gustin_puckerman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on Peggy’s interview in CA:TWS. When Peggy has a bad day and Daniel doesn’t mind dealing with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	long road back home (but i'll be okay as long as i've got you)

**1953**.

It hasn’t been a good day. That much, Daniel can already see. Since the moment he’s woken up and realises that she’s woke up much earlier, Daniel has suspected much so, and, like unfortunate days similar to ones like this before, he hasn’t expected anything less.

Yet he doesn’t know why he still smiles and greets her, limping slowly towards her to peck her a soft “G’morning” against her temple and watch while she tries to manage out a passable smile, like she’s okay, like she’s _happy_ ; as though seeing her hunched herself on the table near their small window that rainy morning is something they have went through everyday.

(No. No. _Everyday_ would’ve meant him cooking them pancakes or a toast and her waking up because of the scent that’ll waft through ‘till it even reaches their bedroom and her leaning against the doorframe lazily while staring at him until he realises that he’s being watched. And he’ll turn around, and every time somehow he’d still be surprised, and she’d grin— _genuinely_ , this time—comes forward and kisses him. 

Sometimes she’d just join him. And she’ll take his hand, and she’d smile.

Oh, she’d just _smile_.

And Daniel would’ve felt as though he has owned the world.)

No, today is not her good day. Still, Daniel never tires to steady himself to the kitchen, makes her favourite porridge, arrange her favourite tea and smiles at her again like he doesn’t notice the dark circles around her eyes, the pale complexion she harbours, and asks— “The interview’s today, isn’t it?”

She smiles again, sadly, then looks down to her bowl with a movement that would’ve defined the very word that is _guilt_. He wishes he could reach over and touch her, comfort her—after all, they _are_ married—but his intention remains as only his intention, his hand stays around the mug of his coffee dutifully. Today, she’ll need her space. He knows this. Of course he does.

He’s her husband.

And she says, “I’m afraid so.”

“Nervous?” He pegs, just because, the smile, albeit small, never vanishes from his face.

“Hah.” Is all she has to offer in return—a breath of a forced chuckle—wane eyes looking outside of the window to give a subtle sign that she’s not exactly up for any further discussion on the topic, but he still nods, accepts her withdrawal and purses on his smile some more.

(He doesn’t mind smiling when she isn’t. He’ll be what she can’t be if he must. As long as she’s okay, by the end. As long as she’s _alright_.)

“Let me take your bowl,” He struggles to stand up, one hand already reaching to her unfinished porridge (she’s surprisingly finished 3/4rd of the bowl, which is more than he ever hopes for) when Peggy nearly snatches it away, scowling a bit.

“No, no, you musn’t—”

“Peggy, _Pegs_.” A string of chuckle leaves through his throat, calm and easy, while he takes a more proper posture at standing up, smiling reassuringly at her. “Don’t worry, I can take it. You just get dress, alright? Y’got a big day ahead of you.”

“Daniel, _honestly_ —”

But he’s already picking her bowl up. “Sweetheart, it’s fine. Look. I can manage. Just get ready and maybe we can beat the traffic before it gets too bad.”

There’s a moment where Daniel thinks she might retort something snarky— _I don’t need to be treated like a doll, Daniel, honestly, I’m your wife, not a porcelain_ —but her mouth soon thins and she could only nod, eyes hovering down towards her clasped hand and thumbs that are fumbling on a napkin.

“ _Peggy_ ,” he tells her a bit later, eyes crinkling when the grin on his face softens, and she looks up expectantly, palely.

“You’re going to be fine, alright? You’ve got this.” He assures, “You’ve always wanted this. Remember what you told me? That you’ve wanted to tell the Captain’s story from _your_ points of view.” And Daniel doesn’t acknowledge the small pang of hurt that he always feel whenever the Captain— _god bless his soul_ —is mentioned, and an echo of something Kreminski once said beats through his knowledge again.

 _Nobody’s gonna trade in blue and white shield for an aluminium crutch_.

And no, Daniel never shares about the sense of insecurity he has over a dead man — that maybe, just _maybe_ , Peggy Carter will never love him as much as she’d loved her lost lover, the War Hero, the Legendary Soldier. And that, for the rest of his life, the moment he’d decided to slip those band around her finger, he will always compete with a ghost that he hopes will never come back.

Even now.

 _Especially_ now.

But, honestly—Daniel doesn’t mind. Sure, it hurts. That at times like this, on her bad days that’s usually triggered whenever Steven Rogers’ name is brought up, she’ll withdraw herself so much—sometimes, he won’t recognise his own wife. But Daniel never gives up. He refuses to, actually.

He’s got nowhere else to go anyway.

So why not fight for what’s already in front of him?

His wife. His _sweetheart_.

So no, maybe by the end of the day, he doesn’t mind that Peggy will probably never love him as much as she had with Steve Rogers—but she _does_ love him. And while it’s shameful to admit, on the days that she truly does and it _shows_ , it’s enough. It’s enough for Daniel. He could live with it.

People would claim he’s selfless—but really, he’s merely in love.

And he is.

Every time he wakes up and realises she’s there next to him, it’s like he’s falling more and more in love all over again. And he’ll have what he can have—her good days, her wonderful days, and even, yes, her bad days.

Which is why he doesn’t mind when they never touch on the way to her interview, why she barely could look him in the eye when he wishes her good luck and tells her that, “I’ll be right outside.” And why he spends the twenty minutes after her interview waiting for her outside the ladies’ room when she, he assumes, cry her eyes out.

(He knows how hard it is when she has to talk about the Captain. He _knows_.)

What truly surprises him is when they’re on their way back home, and he’s just gotten off from talking to an agent who’s brought a message from Thompson (which is why he seems preoccupied), when he realises Peggy has reached over and clasps on _his_ hand.

When he looks over, he knows he looks surprised.

(She barely wants to be touched and/or bothered on her bad days. It makes her extra paranoid, which makes her more— _well_ —deadly.)

She isn’t actually looking his way.

“I apologise,” she begins, words coming out like a heartfelt confession, and he’s too shocked by this sudden change of routine to say anything back, to cut her off and declares that— _it’s alright, Peggy, no, I don’t mind_ —and she says some more, “I’ve been... _difficult_ today, I realise.”

That’s when he finds his voice. “Peggy, no, what are—”

“No, Daniel.” She manages, slowly looking up, “I _know_. And you’ve been such a gentleman to me the whole day. Never once snapping at me, or demanding more of my attention than necessary. I couldn’t—I wouldn’t know what I’d do if you were... If you weren’t you.”

“ _Peggy_ —”

“Let me finish.” She interjects then pleas, voice meek as it come towards the end, “Please?”

Daniel squeezes her grip, just a bit, then nods, allowing her to end whatever it is she needed to say.

Another free hand come to clasp on their already joined hands, and Daniel watches as her carefully nail-polished thumb travel down his knuckles, as though, for a moment there, she’s admiring how miraculous this world works, for two perfect strangers—so very different from birth—could be united simply with how perfect the spaces between one’s fingers could fit the other that easily. Just like that. And they’re holding hands. And she’s feeling his warmth, while he absorbs the coldness her skin emits.

He looks at her curiously.

“I love you, Daniel.” She speaks clearly, “I know I’ve said it before, but I don’t think you’ve understood what I meant.” She looks him in the eyes, “I love you, Daniel Sousa. And I can’t stress it enough how lucky I am to be married to you. To... to get to _know_ you. To have this opportunity to share the rest of my life with you. And I know I’ve been difficult and it hasn’t been easy, and then there’s the issue where Steve is involved and I—” Her voice stuck and suddenly Daniel thinks he can’t breathe.

Can he?

“I’d like to tell you that, yes, I have loved that man. With all my heart. And I’m sad and disappointed and will forever regret that I’ve lost him. But I—I don’t love him anymore. Not like that. My memory does. My memory misses him so much, Daniel—so much, it hurts sometimes.” She’s crying now, a little, and Daniel comes closer (they’re riding in a cab), tries to hush her down. “And I’m _sorry_ , I really am. But you—you wonderful, wonderful man—I do love you. I love you very, very much. Please never doubt that. I’ve made a choice, Daniel. And I chose you. And I will, as long as I’ll breathe, choose you.”

“Peggy, what—” He has her to his chest now, worried mostly, and tries to hush her down some more. 

“I love you, Daniel.”

He closes her eyes, and nod against the top of her head, chuckling a bit— “I love you back, Peggy.”

“I won’t make you regret me. I promise you.”

“Peggy, I’ll _never_ —” He tries to cup her face then, taming down her now wild brown curls. “Sweetheart, where is this coming from? Did something happened in the interview?”

“Daniel,” She manages through a choke of a sob, though this time there’s a glint to her eyes (a nice one, the one that makes his heart nearly jumps from out of his chest) and she’s pursing her lips, like she’s trying not to smile too much. “Daniel, I’m pregnant.”

This time when Daniel checks up if he’s really breathing? He’s surprised that he is.


End file.
